It’s come to this: if I don’t publish a diary entry for 2 days, I incur the wrath of my faithful readership.
The detail of my new life, it would seem, is sufficiently interesting as to have become a kind of ‘daily fix ‘ .
Strange really, as my old life was loads more fun, but recording that probably would not have generated the same attention, or at least would have had a ‘niche’ audience!
Today started with 10am water torture.
Shortly after being hoisted ( yes, in a big cradle ) into the pool, Derryn ( pictured, in the black swim suit, looking as though she’s, er, ‘fisting’ me ) decided she’d assess my ‘sitting balance’.
The benefit of water is that falling over in it isn’t potentially terminal. She therefore sat me on a small backless stool, dead legs dangling into the deep….
Then she proceeded to push me off it, repeatedly.
In the picture I’m laughing. F knows why.
But the good news is that the rationale worked! I did get far better at not falling off, and very quickly, learning to rebalance using my head, arms and back.
Then she made be do ‘dips’ , pictured, in the pool corner. Previously I could do 60 dips on parallel bars, now it’s a paltry 10, assisted by the fist of Derryn ( sounds like a Jackie Chan film ) I wondered why she had placed foam padding on the tiled corner, until I face planted into it…. Yes, balance is the additional challenge now, not only strength.
Dani arrived today an hour earlier than I thought. You know why? So she could pee herself laughing at me flailing in the water, like Forrest Gump in trunks. If you can’t laugh……
I showered in a bath chair, was dressed in my finest gym shorts, then released back into the hospital corridor.
I joined Dani and my ‘team’ for a Goal Planning meeting.
In short the objectives are all bum related: looking after the skin on it, and regulating what comes out of it. Plus, mastering the art of wheelchair to car/bed/bench transfer, without tearing a new hole in my arse.
A lovely lunch followed, accompanied by Dani, Dan and Martyn. Baked jacket potato with cheese, purchased from the cafe is a lot better than the synthetic NHS sandwich that I get for free.
The days activities officially over, my visitors having departed, I attended a lecture on, yes you’ve guessed it, Bowel Management, otherwise known as How to get through the day without shitting yourself.
Yawning badly I then made myself go to the gym, where I did lateral pull downs and seated chest bench press. These are the muscles required to self propel a wheelchair. Half an hour in, the gym shut so I wheeled down to a quiet, sloping corridor and spent an hour pushing hard up it and freewheeling down it. If you saw the pathetic gradient you’d probably laugh, but hey, it’s a start.
Then, after going outside to cool off, I chatted to 2 fellow inmate unfortunates for a bit, and then retired to my room, just as Carol and Tom arrived to see me. Ha, no rest for the wicked!
We had a very entertaining hour or two, chatting, and I’ve been writing this ever since ; and it’s now 10pm.
So there you go, my day in it’s entirety.
That’ll teach you for chastising me.